Only Human
by EternalAmaterasu
Summary: Sometimes he just couldn't tell them apart, even when one was gone. -Royai.


**Re-upload from my other account which I no longer use. Apologies to those of you who have read/reviewed/favorited this story before. Again, this idea was not entirely my own - the plot was, but I had inspiration for the set-up from a Naruto fic so can't take full credit. Hope you enjoy.**

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><p>.<p>

"Don't you have anything better to do?"

He's bored, no doubt, and he's not making any effort to hide it.

She glares back at him through the mirror, dark eyes narrowed and gaze boring into his. But her expression is only teasing, in a way unique to her. A way reserved specially, as always, only for him.

"Nope." His tone matches hers in a playful manner, disguising only an edge of bitterness. Not enough to fool her though, she could always see right through him.

She rolls her eyes, shifting her gaze back to her own reflection, and he watches her adjust the earrings he'd given her last Christmas. They now have company.

He frowns. "When did you get that?"

"Hm?" She reaches fondly towards the silver chain glimmering around her neck. "Two months ago. Klaus gave it to me."

Of course._ Klaus…_ The man of her affections tonight.

"What time will you be back?"

She shrugs. "Around twelve, I guess."

He arches an eyebrow.

"It's the winter festival." She says, as if that justifies the situation. It does, but Roy isn't satisfied. He wants a solid answer. Though he doesn't realize he wants one from _himself,_ not her.

"Will you at least take this with you?"

He's never believed in pepper spray… A smirk plays on her lips as she takes the pistol. "I think I'll feel safer with these too," she grins, swiftly reaching forward to yank a pair of white gloves from his cloak pocket. "That way I won't have to worry about you torching my date."

He smiles, genuinely this time. But the doorbell rings before he has the chance to retort.

She swings her bag over her shoulder, making one last check in the mirror before pushing past him, then stops at the doorway. "Please behave," she says sternly, then her expression softens as she gives him a small smile. "Don't get too lonely without me, okay?"

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><p>.<p>

Roy has grown accustomed to loneliness. There's little he can do but accept it for what it is. It's not something he can change, it's not something he can wish away. And it's not something he's content with – it's just something he has no choice but to endure. Over time, he'd come to realise that.

She doesn't need him there all the time. She's strong and smart enough to look after herself. She had her own priorities now, and he will only ever be on the side-lines for some of them. He'll have to suck it up eventually.

Roy looks out his window, down at the street below. The winter lights aren't as beautiful this year – nothing about the festival looks as dazzling or breath-taking really. Or perhaps the festival is the same as always and he just isn't seeing it like he used to.

He sighs as he numbly flicks through his paperwork. Flashes of orange and yellow dance across the sky, illuminating the room in brief intervals, and Roy wonders why he isn't down there in the park with everyone else. It isn't like he ever finishes his work on time anyway.

He hasn't been to the celebration for years now. Although Havoc and Breda always nag 'til they're blue, he just can't bring himself to go – to smile and laugh with them, to… _celebrate_. Not with that hollow, vacant spot always next to him, the emptiness that follows him everywhere he goes.

It's 1300 hours when he catches her sneaking in She can slip through shadows without a sound but his senses are on high alert, especially because she is late. It worries him.

"You didn't have to wait up," her voice masks a slight nervousness. "We ended up buying too much treats at the stalls. Want some?" she adds, offering him a piece of chocolate.

"It's a bit late for caffeine, don't you think?" he says flatly.

She looks at the floor, averting his stare.

"You said you'd be back by twelve."

"I'm sorry, we lost track of the time."

"I was worried about you. You know it's dangerous this time of night, what if something happened?"

"Nothing would've happened to me, everyone's up late for the festival-"

"All we have is each other. What if you disappeared tonight? How do you think I'd feel?" Roy raises his voice above hers, concern flooding his words. He stares directly at her, dark eyes locking with hers.

"But I was fine," she replies, slightly irritated. "I can look after myself-"

"I shouldn't have permitted it!" He is now shouting. "I shouldn't have let you go!"

"What's the big deal?! Why are you so mad about-"

"I should have protected you!"

Roy's body immediately goes still, paralyzed by his own words. She mimics him as that same realization hits her, and both their irritation fades away.

He turns away, unable to look at her, hands shaking as he clutches the ends of the table for support. He squeezes his eyes shut in attempt to prevent the nausea that sweeps over him, and he gulps at the heavy lump in his throat.

He flinches under her light touch on his shoulder.

"Dad…" she speaks softly, "I'm not Mum…"

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><p><em>.<em>

_"Come on… It's your favorite game, isn't it?"_

_She rolls her eyes at him. "It has to be I guess, since you drag me here every year. You know this one isn't fair though."_

_"Aw, I'm not too sure about that…" he teases. "I am Fuhrer after all, Riza. You're giving me too little credit."_

_"There's no way you can beat me."_

_"Losing to you is like winning anyway. Come on, you know you want to…"_

_"You're so childish, Roy."_

_"That's what carnivals are for. Just one game. Pleeeaaase?"_

_A smile hovers on her lips. "Fine, just one. But you better make it count."_

_"Oh I will," he grins, pulling out his wallet. "You'll see."_

_Roy's turn doesn't quite live up to his words – neither shot is a 10. He manages to win a small bear though, which gives him a bit of trouble staying in his bag full of junk they'd already won at the festival. He hands Riza the plastic gun with an innocent grin._

_She hits 9s on the first two targets._

_"Hey, that's not fair. You're not supposed to go easy."_

_"I'm still beating you." Now it's her turn to smirk. "Besides, I don't want to win any of _those_ things, it'd be a pain to carry home," she adds, glaring at the giant stuffed animals on the shelf._

_"How about hitting that one over there?" Roy leans in over her shoulder from behind. "Doesn't look like you'll win much."_

_She follows his gaze towards the furthest away target. Something is odd about it though – the biggest toy isn't sitting above it. In fact, there doesn't seem to be anything_ _there at all, as though this target is only there for show. Her eyes narrow with suspicion._

_"Make this one count," Roy whispers, his cheek brushing against hers._

_It doesn't take her long to get her aim ready. She hit the small '10' within a few seconds and they watch the tiny blur of black fall into the tray below._

_"Nice shot," he beams, almost betraying his hidden excitement._

_"I don't like that look on your face…"_

_"Well, let's go see what it is." He takes her hand, ignoring her statement and pulling her towards the target._

_She picks up the small black box slowly, and her eyes widen. "Roy…"_

_"Open it," he whispers over her shoulder._

_Inside is a gleaming ring. She stares at it for a few moments, the corners of her mouth twitching. "I was beginning to wonder why this street was so quiet, Fuhrer."_

_"My humble citizens are all waiting in angst here, don't disappoint their brilliant leader in front of them." He leans closer, breathing against her ear. "Say yes."_

_She turns around and their eyes lock. "You're going to have to be more specific," she says in amusement. "I might misunderstand your order."_

_A grin dances across his face. "If this was an order, Riza, then I'd be telling you to walk behind me. I'm asking if from now on, you'll walk _beside_ me."_

_Her smile widens._

_His voice is low and their faces are suddenly closer, their foreheads touching. "Will you be my First Lady?"_

_She shoves her free hand into his hair and pulls him down so that their lips can meet, ignoring the burst of applause around them._

_._

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><p>.<p>

If anyone knows about the Fuhrer bringing his daughter to Central Headquarters for target practice, they are wise not to mention it. Their silence isn't a constitution of fear of their country's leader though, but more of the fact that Roy Mustang would just carry out his parenting methods elsewhere. So the pair are free to use the shooting range as they wish.

"Not _again,"_ Roy groans, gaping at the searing holes in the target ahead.

"Are you _sure_ you're not going easy on me, Dad?"

"You are demon spawn, Cate Mustang. Literally."

His daughter straightens up, lowering her rifle. "Seriously though, how _did_ you make Fuhrer with an aim like _that?"_

"Hey! You better watch it, or else I might ban you from coming here."

_"You're_ the one breaking your own law by bringing me. It's illegal, you know."

"And for good reason... Knew I should have taught you myself," he mutters more to himself.

"No way," Cate laughs. "Then I wouldn't even have hit a single one."

Roy narrows his eyes. "Is it just me or are all teenagers arrogant prats these days? I was much more humble at your age."

She snorts. "Whatever. Mum told me all about you and your escapades, Mr Gallantry."

Cate notices his eyes soften at her words, his gaze now distant.

"She _did,_ did she? And I presume she brought you here more often without my knowing?"

"Maybe."

"That would explain a few things."

"Still doesn't justify the fact that you're terrible at shooting."

"Not all people are born with the gift."

"Come on, Dad, it takes _skill._ I'm just better than you."

"Oh yeah? How about we up the stakes then? If you hit the next five at 9 or more, I'll take Friday off and we can go to the show."

"Deal!"

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><p>.<p>

Cate knows that her father sometimes blows off work to spend time with her.

Paperwork isn't something he's ever needed an excuse for, but lately especially, his attendance to general meetings and trips has been less frequent if they are at all avoidable. It's to help cultivate her talents, he'd say, and of course, the fact that she is his little girl _("Be grateful, Cate, not all kids have the handsome Fuhrer as their daddy, you know")._

But as she's gotten older, Cate has begun to notice a deeper significance to the time they spend together.

She's never actually been a competitive person, and prefers to read a book or do something quiet at home rather than target practice. But it isn't like she doesn't know what's really going on. So when out shooting with her father, she makes it a point to go as hard on him as she can, so that his face would light up with that rare affectionate smile and for a few precious hours, he can pretend that Riza Hawkeye is kicking his ass.

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><p>.<p>

They expect so much from him. Not as himself – as Roy Mustang he's just another man in Amestris. But as Fuhrer they expect him to run the country, to be conscientious in his duties, to protect his people and lead them through times of crisis and advancement.

They expect him to sit at his desk when his daughter is captured, beaten and tortured by enemies for the purpose of getting to him. They expect him to be patient while they handle it. They expect him to remain calm when he doesn't even know what is happening to her.

Bullshit. He's only human.

On the outside, Roy is the greatest leader Amestris has ever known. He's the most powerful of all the State Alchemists. He took down two homunculi on his own. He is the Hero of Ishval and has survived the most perilous battles, he's fought against the undying and come out alive. Anyone how knows him, his comrades, his enemies, his friends; they all seemed to think he's damn invincible.

But they also know he practically drowns underwater whenever someone precious to him is in danger. He can't handle it. It's torment above being at the receiving hand of his own alchemy. It's like dying _himself._

He and his daughter fight sometimes. One day after a visit with Gracia, she claims that he sees her as a remnant of Riza. That in everything she does, everything she says – in her every _move –_ he thinks of his wife, her mother. Roy can only deny that to a certain point. While she has his darker eyes, the rest of her is the splitting image of Riza, and her personality is uncannily similar to her mother's. It drives him insane. And sometimes he just can't tell them apart – even when one is no longer with them.

But they aren't the same. They are separate. And as Roy's feet carry him through mazes of white corridors, past blurs of doctors garbed in blue, he isn't thinking of the afternoon's meeting with the Cretan leader, or the startled politicians he'd abandoned in his office – not even _Riza._ It is Cate's face that flashes across his mind, Cate's grin and frown that he sees, Cate's laugh that he hears. It is Cate he thinks of.

Cate, Cate, Ca-

_"CATE!"_

His voice comes out in a gut-wrenching yell and his heart almost stops when he sees her. He should have expected it, they'd had her for _days. _But it is like dying all over again. Her body is covered in cuts and bruises, a beating bandages can't entirely disguise. He can't help but wish he could go back to that basement and incinerate her captors all over again. He wishes he could give them the torture they deserve for what they have done to his daughter.

He holds her hand for hours, repeatedly whispering her name and stroking her hair, until he falls asleep in the chair next to her. When he comes to again, she is sitting up, looking down at him with a broken grin.

"Hey, Sleepyhead." Her voice is weak and a little raspy, from lack of speech or pain caused by the effort, maybe both. But she is alive, and she's going to be okay.

Roy tries to smile as he gets up and kisses her forehead, his grip tightening on her hand.

"Dad… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"

"For what?"

"Mum wouldn't have let them... She would have taken them down easy."

Roy feels as though he's just been winded. He cradles her to his chest, holding her close to him, and she leans into his embrace, silent tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Cate, listen to me," his voice cracks. "This isn't about your mother. This is about you. _You." _He repeats it to her firmly, over and over again, convincing her… convincing himself.

And it breaks his heart when his daughter who'd just endured days of torture because of _him, _tries to give him comfort. "I know Dad, I… I get it… It's alright."

But it isn't. He can't keep doing this.

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><p><em>.<em>

_Roy isn't the typical soldier. And unfortunately, firearms have never been his specialty._

_"Good enough?" he asks, lowering his rifle._

_Riza shakes her head._

_He groans. Of course… She's not going to let him go until all of his shots are 10s. Still, it was worth a go._

_"The week's forecast is good," he tries. "And I'm not going solo. There's still the rest of the team, remember?"_

_"Who'll surely be likely targets with their Fuhrer beside them," she says with sarcasm. "Some of those men can't even be trusted to shoot a pigeon on mark if it came their way."_

_"You're just upset because you can't come with me this time."_

_His wife scowls. "No, I'm just making sure you'll come back alive. Since I'm the only one around here who seems to ca-" _

_He cuts her off by pressing their mouths together._

_"I _will,"_ he whispers against her lips. "Besides, you could keep me here for the next decade and my shooting still won't be up to your standards."_

_"At least it'd be an improvement."_

_"Don't worry about me. Just take care of yourself." His expression is soft, but it masks concern. She sees through it._

_"I'll be fine, Roy. She's not due for another four months. Just come back alive, okay?"_

_He catches the fear in her tone. "I will," he says softly, pulling her into a hug. "I promise."_

_"I know." She rests her chin on his shoulder. "It's just… this is the first time we won't be together since Ishval. It feels weird."_

_"I'll _always_ be with you. Even when I'm in Creta and you're here." He places a soft kiss on her neck._

_She tightens her grip on him._

_"I'll never leave you. Just like you'll never leave me."_

_"You sound like you're giving me some dying wish or something."_

_He laughs, pulling back so that he can meet her gaze. "But you know it's true. And even if that was the case I'd _still _be with you."_

_"With_ both_ of us," Riza corrects._

_"With both of you," he repeats, kissing her again._

_._

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><p>.<p>

Cate inherited Riza's knack for keeping things organized, so Roy lets her pick the flowers for the gravestone and stands back as she lays them out in front of it.

"Dad's been losing it lately, Mum," she says to the stone tablet. "He almost burned the house down at dinner last night. And that was _without_ alchemy. Crazy, huh?"

"Hey!" Roy protests, feigning hurt.

"I'm just telling the truth. Your cooking was great though."

A look of surprise flashes across his face. "Really?"

"Nope, I was kidding on that one."

"You little brat."

Cate grins up at him.

They don't stay at Riza's grave for very long. Roy visits the cemetery enough already – for four years now, two of his three most precious people have resided there. He spends hours sitting in front of Riza's mound. He never says anything. Cate is frightfully content with talking to it but for him it is different. He and Riza had always conveyed their feelings without words after all. So it was then, so it is now.

They briefly pay their respects to Maes' resting place before heading home. Roy tries to hide his concern for Cate. She'd only been let out of the hospital six days ago. Maybe Riza's right, he really is a pestering father to no end. He's ready to throw Cate back into that hospital bed the second she makes the slightest stagger.

"I'm not doing a very good job of filling in for Mum, am I?" she says unexpectedly.

Roy's face fills with shock. _You're doing great, _he wants to tell her. It's true. And it's false. _No-one_ can fill in for Riza. Not her, not him.

She catches his gaze, and for a moment Roy believes Riza's spirit has somehow shined through. Cate sends him a look of understanding, that there isn't any need for him to say anything. She knows.

Her voice is soft. "I miss her so much."

"So do I." Roy sits up as she makes her way over to his couch, moving his arm so that she can snuggle against him. His eyes sting. "There isn't a second that goes by where I don't miss her."

Cate's form is so small against his, but she's almost an adult already. He half-wishes she was still a kid, that she would cling to him forever and he could hold her all the time, never having to let go.

"I'm just not the same as Riza, huh?"

Cate shakes her head against him.

He nods, his eyes distant. "Of course not."

"But you're a good father."

"I'm not too much of a hard-case?"

She pauses, pretending to think for a moment. "Well, you could be a bit nicer when it comes to boys."

Roy snorts. "That's a father's job."

She sits up, giving him a playful shove. "Not the torching part. I wouldn't call _that_ normal."

"Oh, right… No, that's just me I suppose."

She grins, absently fiddling with her necklace.

"Klaus seems okay though." His words catch her by surprise. "You really like him, don't you?"

"Yeah."

He sighs. "You're already choosing boys over your old man."

"You'll still have me, Dad. I'll always be with you too."

Roy smiles. He remembers saying those exact words once.

"I know. I'll always have both of you."

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><p>.<p>

**Still can't believe I killed Riza off a second time. She's one of my most favorite characters. It hurts... but just couldn't resist... Anyhow, thanks for reading. God bless!**


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